For the first time in his life, Peter Parker had a date.

And for the hundredth time in his life, Aunt May was making a fuss about nothing.

"But you've got to look good, Peter," Aunt May said. "This is your first date after all."

"But it's just a..."

"Hush," Aunt May said. "Now tie up that bowtie."

Despite his numerous objections, Aunt May insisted Peter wear a suit to his first date. Peter said that it was just a date, not prom but Aunt May wouldn't listen. So here Peter was, in a bright blue suit on his way for his first date.

Aunt May said that'd he'd have to be back before curfew so the date was at 5 PM and Aunt May made him get ready at 2.

"Aunt May I'm burning in this can I..."

"No," Aunt May said. "This is your first date Peter. You have to dress to impress."

"But we're literally just going to a McDonalds..."

Aunt May stared at him like he'd just killed her mother. "This is your first date and you're treating her to a McDonalds."

"We're high schoolers May," Peter said. "We don't have the money for fancy ass restaurants."

"Language."

Peter sighed. "For fancy restaurants."

"When Ben and I started dating he was dressed up in such a nice suit," May said. "I remember the smell of his cologne and the smell of his new car. He took me to one of the fanciest restaurants in New York. We had prawns and grilled salmon. And you're taking her to a McDonalds."

Peter looked down at his shoes and looked up in the sky "Like god, why me."

"The economy was different back then," Peter said. "Look can I just change into something else. This suit is killing..."

"You're keeping the suit."

"But it's hot..."

"You are keeping the suit."

"Please can you listen to me..."

"The suit."

Peter sighed. There was no winning with Aunt May.

...

"Honey," Barbara Gordon's mother said. "I think your date is here."

"Coming."

Barbara Gordon searched around for the best pair of shoes she had. She wore a pink t-shirt and jeans, seemingly casual but they were the best pink t-shirt and jeans she had. Her dad was at the lunch table, reading a newspaper.

"Remember if he tries anything..."

Barbara sighed. "He won't dad."

"I know but..."

Barbara sighed. "I can defend myself. I learnt how to from the best."

"Still..."

Barbara smiled. "Dad."

She gave her dad a kiss on the cheek before opening the door. Peter was there holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a...

"Is that a suit?"

...

Peter wanted to groan. "Yes. It is."

"Aww and flowers," Barbara said. "I don't think people do that nowadays." She picked up the flowers. It was a multicoloured bush of roses, dandelions and daffodils all bundled up together.

"My Aunt made me buy it on the way," Peter said, looking away. How cool. Your Aunt made you buy it. "I didn't want to..."

"What do you mean you didn't want to?" Barbara said. "These are amazing."

"Thanks," Peter said. "Scratch that, it was one hundred percent my idea."

Barbara giggled. "I'm going to put these in my room. You want to come in?"

"I-in your room?"

Barbara punched him lightly against his shoulder. "No, silly."

"Oh," Peter said, kind of disappointed.

"Maybe you can," Barbara said.

"Really," Peter said. "That's cool I'll..."

"When my parents aren't here," Barbara said, winking.

"Oh," Peter said, disappointed again. Until he realised just what she meant. "OH, I see what you..."

Peter got his reply by an empty doorway.

...

"You're fine with this?" Peter asked. He could smell the grease in the air and the smell of stale patties being sizzled on a grill.

"Yeah," Barbara said. "We're teenagers. I don't think we can afford fancy restaurants. Besides I'm pretty sure my stomach's used to junk food by now."

The hot temperature radiating from the grills did not help with Peter's suit situation. He was burning in the suit, not to mention the fact that his spider suit was tucked underneath (just in case). He was trying his hardest not to show Barbara he was sweating.

"Dick and I," Barbara said. "We had this night job, some security gig."

"They let teenagers work in security?"

"This city is full of surprises," Barbara said. "When our supervisor made us to long gigs, Dick would always buy junk food. Obviously, I didn't want anything that greasy but Dick insisted. After a while it'd be a nightly thing and soon, well my stomach got used to it."

"Are you and Dick still," Peter asked, Barbara stared at him. "Um, I mean if you don't mind me asking."

"No, we're just friends," Barbara said.

"What made you um...?"

Barbara was quiet for a while.

"If you don't mind me asking," Peter quickly added.

Barbara smiled. "You're new to this aren't you?"

Peter fiddled with his collar. "Sorry. Just wanted to keep the conversation going."

"It's fine," Barbara said. "Dick and I split up cause he was always worried about me. So much so that he treated me like I was a baby. I realised that he cares about me but I just didn't want to be smothered."

"I get that," Peter said. "I uh... My Aunt worries about me a lot. Sometimes a little too much. I mean you can see how much I'm sweating in this suit."

Barbara giggled.

"She always makes a fuss about me," Peter said. "Always. It gets annoying but I mean I understand why."

Peter sighed, looking down at the table. "After what happened here I... I don't know. I feel like a dick for treating her the way I did."

Barbara grabbed his hand.

Peter let out a weak chuckle. "I'm such a downer, aren't I?"

"No, no," Barbara said. "After this I'll show you a spot. Someplace I used to hang out before. I think you'll like it."

Peter smiled. "Alright."

He was about to take out his blazer. He felt comfortable after all, he didn't feel the need to impress. Barbara made him feel comfortable with himself.

"Keep the blazer on," Barbara said, an evil smile across her face. "I want to see you suffer."

...

The view was atop a grey painted city. From above, Gotham looked almost liveable. Almost. The grimy city streets and people who stared at you like they were about to kill you felt like they were a million miles away. Not to mention that it was starting to get cloudy as the sky was overcast with dark clouds.

"I used to hang out here when life, well when life was little too much," Barbara said. "Your problems seem so far away when you sit up here."

Peter had his blazer tucked underneath his shoulder. His tie was dangling like a snake on his untucked white shirt. Peter was so glad that Barbara didn't continue to watch him suffer under the humidity of that stuffy suit. They had both ordered cheap strawberry milkshakes and were slurping away.

"What was that?" Barbara asked. "About your Aunt, you remember? Back at McDonalds?"

"Oh," Peter said. "Well, a lot of stuff happened to me. In this city. You know what happened to my uncle and..."

Barbara slid her hand over Peter's. It was warm

"And... well," Peter said. "A lot of things went downhill. Gotham isn't the safest place to raise a kid and the place and everything, it... uh... it affected me. It affected me a lot more than I give it credit for."

"I snapped at my Aunt," Peter said. "It was after that party at Wayne Manor. She said something and I snapped at her and god I feel so guilty."

"Peter," Barbara said. "You've got to learn to forgive yourself."

"I know that it's just..." Peter sighed. "I've never told anyone about this but and..." Peter looked at Barbara for a moment. At her concerned expression, at the freckles on her cheeks. At the strand of her dangling in front of his eyes that he wanted to tuck away behind her ear. He wondered if he should tell her that he's Spider-Man. That Peter Parker is actually Spider-Man. But then he realised that if he did, he'd be putting her in danger and being the daughter of a police commissioner, she was in enough danger as is. "There was this mugger. This one asshole mugger and I could've stopped him. I could've stopped the guy but, on that day, I was in a really bad mood and I let him get away. That mugger was the same bastard that killed my uncle and..."

Peter didn't realise he was crying. Barbara shifted closer to him. "I'm sorry I..."

She put an arm around him, pulling him closer. Tucking her head on his shoulder, letting him know that he's there.

Peter swallowed something. "I was such an asshole to my Aunt when she clearly was going through the same thing I was. I... those two raised me god dammit and I was such an asshole and I don't know if she'll ever forgive me. I don't..."

"Your suit, Peter."

"What?"

"The suit you're wearing," Barbara said. "The stuffy one. And those flowers. You told me she made a fuss about them, right?"

Peter smiled, wiping his tears. "Yeah she told me I should take you somewhere fancy too."

Barbara smiled. "See, she's clearly forgiven you, Peter."

"I know but..."

"You should come clean to her," Barbara said. "About everything. About what you told me about your uncle..."

"But I..."

Barbara put a finger on his lip. "Shhh. Tell her about it Pete. You can't keep bottling it up."

"But there's," Peter sighed. "You know what, you're right."

He looked out at the city. The city that had taken so much from him. He turned to Barbara and thought about Dick. And given so much to him too.

"I'll tell her," Peter said. "About everything."

And he was going to tell her about everything. About Ben, about taking jobs behind her back and about him being Spider-Man.

...

The wings were a gleaming bright silver. Candle lights danced across the Vibranium coating, coursing through it like an orange river.

The Vulture's wings were ready.

...

It was raining. Peter and Barbara's hair were soaked as they made it to the bus stop.

Barbara gave Peter back his blue blazer which was soaked to a deep dark blue.

"Here you go," Barbara said.

"At least I won't need to put that for wash," Peter said.

Barbara chuckled.

"You sure you don't want me to wait with you, I can always..."

Barbara shook her head. "It's alright Peter. I can handle myself."

"You sure?"

Barbara put a finger on his lips. "Hush child."

"See you next week?"

Barbara kissed his cheek. "See you next week."

Peter's face was a deep red as he walked off.

"Bye Peter."

Peter barely heard her.

"I said bye Peter," Barbara called after him.

Peter waved weakly. "Bye." He touched his cheek, walking away with a blank expression on his face.

"Sweet boy, isn't he?"

Barbara barely noticed that she was sharing the bench with a man dressed head to toe in a trench coat. His face barely visible under the hat he was wearing.

"Yeah," Barbara said, sitting on the opposite end of the bench. "He's really sweet."

The man chuckled. "Reminds me of something my father used to say."

"What's that?"

"He used to tell me, 'boy, you're going to meet a lot of girls in your life. Some will be real pretty, some will be really rich and others will show you a hell of a good time in bed. But if she can't make you smile, if she can't make you laugh. She ain't worth it. Prettiness ain't going to last forever, neither will money and sex gets really boring after a while. But a smile, a smile goes a long way. She could have warts all over her face but if she makes you smile, you'll ignore them. Hell, you'll laugh it all off. That's why you should always go for a girl that makes you smile.'"

"That's very good advice."

"Yeah," the man said. "Days after that I found him hanging on a noose, big smile on his face."

She heard the revolver click way too late.

"But Daddy Gordon won't be smiling after she sees what I did to his daughter's face."

The man removed his hat, revealing a huge grin underneath.

...

Light poured out off Aunt May's room. Peter knocked on the door and Aunt May said come in.

Aunt May was dressed in her night clothes, she was sitting on the bed reading a book. When she saw Peter enter, she put the book down and turned to face him.

"How did your date go?"

"It was great," Peter said and then took a breath. "Look I want to talk about something."

"I told you not to take her to McDonalds."

"No, no that," Peter said. Aunt May saw the serious expression on his face beckoned for him to sit on the bed. When Peter sat down, Aunt May got up and placed a hand on his. Her hands felt so much rougher than Barbara's.

"There's been a lot I've been keeping from you," Peter said. "A lot of stuff I haven't been telling you and it's time I..."

His spider sense started buzzing.

"Get down."

"Peter what are you...?"

"Get down now!"

Peter tackled her to the ground as the roof erupted in a burst of rubble. Rubble came raining down them and Peter acted as a human shield.

Peter heard the scrape of metallic wings as the Vulture descended into Aunt May's room.

...

Barbara tackled the Joker before he could fire the gun. There was a tangle of limbs and Barbara emerged victorious, ripping the gun out of Joker's hand. The Joker kicked Barbara across the stomach, knocking her back.

"Back in the Asylum, Harvey taught me to always carry spares."

The Joker pulled out a sub-machine gun from his coat pockets and pointed it directly at Barbara. Barbara grabbed a broken bottle that was lying around and threw it at the Joker as bullets rained down the empty space she once occupied.

She grabbed her phone, running away from the Joker. She dialled the Batcomputer. "Pick up. Pick up."

She turned around and saw the Joker holding another SMG. He grinned as he pulled the trigger. Barbara leapt aside hiding behind an alleyway.

"Come on Bruce, you idiot!"

Barbara heard something clattering on the ground. She leapt across the room as a grenade exploded behind her, scattering dust and rubble all over her favourite pink shirt. The Joker turned the corner and started firing. Barbara tackled him across the ground, as the Joker laughed.

"I've always liked having a girl on top of me," the Joker said. "Really turns me on."

She felt the nozzle of her gun at her stomach. Barbara leapt aside before he could fire.

She placed her phone in her pocket so she could focus. She grabbed a nearby brick and before the Joker could start firing tossed it straight at his face. She needed an environment where she had an advantage and the mean streets of Gotham wasn't it.

She made a run for it, scanning her surroundings as gun fire erupted behind her, the houses and buildings she passed by exploding in a burst of splinters and dust.

She saw a bunch of warehouses and was about to make her way into one when she felt a burning pain sear through her thigh.

She had just been shot in the leg.

...

The Vulture's wings folded neatly inside their carriers.

"Peter," the Vulture said. "I just want to talk."

"Well talk to this."

The Vulture felt a brick cracked against his face and Peter tackled him across the room.

"You idiot," Peter said, the Vulture's visor cracking underneath sledgehammer like blows to the face. "I told you to not to make this personal and what to you do."

"YOU. MAKE. IT. PERSONAL!" Peter roared, enunciating each word with a punch.

"Peter," Vulture hissed. Through his cracked visor he saw multiple Peter's, their faces contorted with rage. "It's me Adrian."

That was enough to make him shut up.

"Stop lying to me you maniac," Peter growled. "STOP LYING TO ME!"

Adrian Toome's pressed a button on the side of his helmet. With a hiss it fell off and clattered on the floor.

Peter's posture weakened. His hands hung limp on the side.

"No," he said, his voice cracking, tears starting to form in his eyes. "No, it can't be you."

...

Barbara limped and stumbled, avoiding the gunfire raining down upon her. She was inches away from a warehouse, from a place where she would be in control.

She felt bullets tear the ground inches away.

"Oh, come on," Joker said. "Stop playing so coy. Come here to Daddy Joker."

The Joker walked slowly towards her. As if toying with her. He fired his bullets at irregular intervals, discontent with putting Barbara out of her misery. Meanwhile, Barbara had her face caked in mud. Her clothes were soaked and littered with mud and dirt.

Barbara limped her way to the warehouse, slipping on a puddle. The puddle turned crimson with her blood as she tried to get up. The Joker's footsteps getting closer and closer.

She got up, tripping and slipping and limped her way to the warehouse, narrowly avoiding gunfire. She made it to the warehouse, slamming the door behind her. She ducked as bullets tore through the door, rain slipping through the holes they made and on her face. She rolled out of the way as more bullets fired through the door. She looked around the warehouse, for something, anything that would give her some sort of advantage.

On her right she saw a sledgehammer.

And her mind was made.

...

"It can't be you," Peter said, crying. "It can't."

Adrian looked down. "I'm sorry Peter. It is."

"I looked up to you," Peter said. "Y-you taught me so much. You were there for me..."

"I'm sorry Peter," Adrian said. "I really am. "

"I..."

Adrian placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Peter."

"W-What are you doing here?"

"Tonight, I'm going to be doing something," Adrian said. "Something really dangerous and I'm going to need you step off."

"You know I can't do that," Peter said. "I can't let you..."

"Oh, you will, Peter," Adrian said. "I'm no scientist but your Aunt isn't doing so well."

Peter was so caught up with Adrian that he'd forgotten all about Aunt May. He ran towards her and almost fell on his knees when he saw what was happening.

Her face was pale, she was breathing heavily, her body moving up and down and her hands clutching her chest.

She was having a heart attack.

...

The door to the warehouse slammed open.

"Come on Babsy," Joker said, gun pointed at the dark empty warehouse as lightning flashed across his face. "I'll be so gentle. It'll almost be painless."

The Joker swerved around, firing blindly at the warehouse. "You and your dad have so much fight in you, don't you? I mean would you look at my forehead?"

Blood ran down his forehead, staining his brown trench coat.

"Don't worry about the blood," Joker said. "It won't get in the way."

The Joker heard something move to his left and fired. He walked toward where he fired and saw the corpse of a dead cat.

"Can we please stop playing these games?" Joker said. "I'm getting bored."

"Sure."

Lightning flashed as Barbara swung a sledgehammer directly at Joker's ribs. There was a sickening crack as the Joker stumbled back, out of breath but Barbara wasn't done yet.

Barbara tackled him across the wall, crashing across empty boxes.

"This is for all the GCPD officers you killed," Barbara screamed. "For all the people's lives you've ruined."

Barbara put all her anger, all her rage into the punch. Savouring each and every punch she landed on his face. She kept on punching him over and over again till his face was reduced to a bloody pulp, till her knuckles where stained with his blood, till the tears started pouring down her face.

She knew why Bruce didn't let her in the GCPD operation. She knew why he was so hesitant to let her close to the Joker.

The Joker was coughing out blood, his face was a red and blue pulp and he had teeth missing and knowing how hard she hit her across the chest with a sledgehammer, his ribs were probably a mess.

Barbara didn't know she was capable of this. She got off the Joker and called Dick.

"Hey Babs, what's up?"

"The Joker," Barbara said, out of breath. "The Joker attacked me."

"What the hell?" Dick exclaimed. "Where the hell are you? Bruce and I are on the way, just tell us where you are right now."

"TKJ," Barbara said. "I'm by TKJ Street, west of Amusement Mile, by all those warehouses."

"Alright we got you," Dick said. "Just make sure you keep the bastard tied up."

Barbara hung up and put her phone in her pocket and sat across from the Joker. She placed pressure on her thigh, making sure to staunch the bleeding. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down.

"You know," The Joker said, his voice rasping. "You know my uncle fought in Vietnam."

"Shut up," Barbara said. "I don't care."

Joker laughed, choking on his blood. "Oh, you'll like this one. I swear you'll like this one."

Barbara saw blood running down his mouth, running down like a waterfall.

"You see my uncle was a teenager back then," Joker said. "A dumb teenager. He told me he joined the war because he used to read all those Captain America comics, told me he wanted to massacre all those yellow commies and show them who's boss."

It seemed like blood was coming from all over him, even in places where it shouldn't be coming from. Blood started spreading from his legs and his arms, slithering through his mangled body like snakes.

"He was deployed down into the jungle see," Joker said. "He was sent to some village. He got some intel that some Viet Cong was in that village from his big fat general. My uncle said that fat fuck hadn't seen a war in his life."

Blood was suddenly surrounding him entirely, crawling around his body like it was a living thing.

"What the hell is going on?"

...

"No, no," Peter croaked.

Aunt May put a pale hand on his face. "P... P..."

"I'm no doctor but I think she needs medical assistance."

"Shut up!" Peter shouted. "Shut the hell up!"

"Clocks ticking, Peter."

With that the Vulture flew away, leaving behind a hole in the window.

Ok, focus, Peter. Focus. He had to get to the hospital otherwise Aunt May would... Aunt May would...

He needed his mask, his costume. He needed something.

Her breaths were like a ticking time bomb. Peter had no time to grab his mask. Thank god he had his web shooters with him.

Peter webbed away, holding Aunt May over his shoulders. He grabbed his phone and called Dick. He was so unfamiliar with Gotham he didn't know where the nearest hospital was.

"Pick up, pick up."

But the line was busy.

...

"How far are you?" Barbara asked.

"We're on our way," Dick said. "Why?"

"Somethings happening."

Dick's voice was just background noise as the blood grew and grew, enveloping Joker and growing. Dear god it was growing.

"He thought it'd be a clean job," Joker said. "He though he'd just be shooting some commies but he thought wrong."

The blood was taking form. Growing into hands, twisting and engorging into clawed fingers and massive legs.

"Everybody had a gun," Joker said. "The old men had guns, the women had guns, even the children had guns."

Barbara grabbed his collar. "What the hell's going on?"

"And one child had a gun pointed to him."

...

Dick picked up.

Dick was about to say hello when Peter interrupted. "Where the hell is the nearest hospital from my apartment?"

"Pete..."

"My Aunt's in trouble," Peter interrupted. "Now where's..."

"Near 57th and Main," Dick said. "You need any hel..."

Peter hung up. "Stay with me, May." Peter swung across Gotham, unaware that his Aunt was as still as a stone.

...

"And my uncle had to kill the kid you see," Joker said. "He had to. He couldn't just die. He had a lot to live for, you see."

"Tell me what's going or I swear to god I'll punch you!" Barbara tried to act tough but she couldn't hide how much her voice was shaking, how much her hands were shaking as she grabbed his throat.

The blood started eating away at his face, his eyes, his cheeks.

"And my uncle learned a valuable lesson that day," Joker said, his voice getting increasingly more garbled with each word, deeper with each breath and more powerful with each stop. "That war isn't all fun and games like those comic books. No, he learnt that it was all..."

Barbara felt herself being lifted off the ground by a pair of red claws. She saw a red face, so much like Peter's mask but with a pair of empty white eyes and razor-sharp teeth. She didn't have time to react as a red tendril speared her stomach making her choke out blood.

"Carnage."

To be continued...